


Denmark is Somehow the Responsible One Here.

by teakroses



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: College AU, Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakroses/pseuds/teakroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“you can’t get tattooed drunk, come back in the morning and if you still want my name on your ass we’ll talk” AU</p><p>If you have a fanfic request, please send me a message at teakroses.tumblr.com! I'll be happy to write you a one shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denmark is Somehow the Responsible One Here.

(Lukas) Foss = Norway

Mikkel = Denmark

“Mikk.” Foss announced loudly, throwing the door open with a crash.

“Ya?” Mikkel replied, dropping his textbook in surprise. Foss never announced himself when he visited Mikkel’s dorm. More often than not, he walked in without a word and plopped onto the nearest sit-able spot. It was cute; the way that he came and went as he pleased. It reminded him of a house cat he used to have. Now that he thought of it, Foss was pretty catlike. He even knocked shit off of Mikk’s desk when he wasn’t looking.

“I have somethin’ to tell ya.” Foss’s face gave away nothing, save for a brush of red across his stoney cheeks. Mikk’s brain went into instant panic mode when he saw Foss’s clenched fists.

“Ah my god, what’d I do?” Mikk said, standing up, tears already welling in his eyes. “Did somethin’ happen? Are ya hurt-“

“I’m gettin’ a tattoo.” Foss cut in, holding up his hand to stop Mikk before he panicked himself further.

“Oh.” Mikk stopped. Foss wasn’t angry, like he thought. The way he wobbled when he lifted his hand, it became pretty obvious that Foss was drunk off his ass. “Whatcha gettin’?”

“Your name.” He answered, matter-of-factly. He swayed like a willow when he crossed his arms.

“Really? I’m touched.” Mikk beamed. “Wher-“

“I’m gettin’ it on my ass.” Foss said with the upmost seriousness.

“Åh min Gud, Ya really do love me.” Mikk roared with laughter. “Or ya really really plastered. Like, a million sheets to the wind, booze in your hair, plastered.”

“Shut up, I’m sober.” Foss lied unconvincingly. “Wanna come?”

“Damn straight I do- wait, right now?”

“Right now.” He nodded. “Tino has a tattoo gun.”

“Foss. My bro. My bestest buddy in the whole world.” Mikk said kindly, putting his hands on Foss’s shoulders. “You’re drunk and that’s a terrible idea. I’m puttin’ you to bed. I promise your perfect ass’ll thank me in the mornin’.”


End file.
